


Whatever You Need

by great_white_shark



Series: Cruise ‘Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 06, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boats and Ships, Chubby Dean, F/M, Fluff, Weight Gain, because there's not much of a plot, except not really, there's a boat tag i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_white_shark/pseuds/great_white_shark
Summary: Dean's stuck on a boat for a month and a half, and he isn't exactly happy about it. Apparently it's sort of a "thing" in the Braeden family to enter sweepstakes - which, what the hell - and Lisa's won two tickets to an all-expenses-paid cruise. And she's insisted on dragging Dean along, so. Here he is. Dean's not excited, but he'll suck it up for Lisa.But then he learns about the all you can eat buffet, and Dean quickly changes his mind about this whole cruise thing. Maybe it won't be so bad after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked Dean/Lisa, but I feel like there aren't enough fics that focus on them as the main pairing. So here you go.
> 
> And Dean gets rather chunky, too, so added bonus! Who doesn't love chubby!Dean? On a boat, no less?
> 
> (Also, full disclaimer: I've never been on a cruise. Google was used a lot.)

Never, not in his entire life, had Dean ever thought that he'd go on a cruise. That was something that rich, boring 60-somethings who golfed at the country club did. Or something those 'picket fence, 2.5 kids' families did, the horrible little brats gorging themselves on sugar while mommy and daddy went shuffle boarding. Or some shit.

God, Dean was mad he even knew what shuffle boarding _was_.

Nevertheless, Dean now found himself on board a huge, gleaming white cruise ship, waving goodbye to Lisa's mom and a very grumpy Ben. He'd wanted to come along _so_ badly, but there had only been two tickets included in that sweepstakes thing that Lisa had entered. Dean would have been more than happy to give Ben his ticket, but Lisa had insisted that they go together. 

Dean hadn't even known that Lisa entered shit like that. Apparently, everyone in her family did it. It was kind of a 'thing' between all of them.

None of them ever expected to _win_ , Lisa had told him, dumbstruck, after receiving the tickets in the mail three weeks ago. They did it mostly for shits and giggles, a 'why not' philosophy goading all members of Lisa's family to regularly give away their personal information to random companies on the Internet. Her grandmother had won a free blender six years ago, but that had been the extent of the Braedens' luck with sweepstakes.

Well. Until now.

The cruise was a freakin' month and a half long. Almost seven weeks. They were going to be gone for the whole month of June and half of July, and Dean was lucky that he was on good terms with his boss, because he was missing a whole lot of work. Well, it was a 'temporary leave of absence,' but still. Dean didn't even like boats all that much, let alone enough to be on one for forty-eight days. And he hadn't known that cruises could even _be_ this long, either, even though Lisa said she knew someone who'd been on one that lasted almost three months. Ugh.

But, as the boat left port and he felt someone squeeze his side, Dean remembered why he'd agreed to come.

Lisa.

She'd been floored at getting the tickets - they'd both been - and had been looking forward to it for weeks. He'd suck it up for her, because she was the one who'd put him back together after Sam's fall, the one who had welcomed him into her home and calmed him down when he had nightmares.

The one who had helped him accept the fact that, after two years, Sam wasn't going to come back. Not this time.

So yeah, he'd suck it up. It couldn't be too difficult. After all, they _were_ on vacation.

Lisa leaned over the rail, trying to keep sight of Ben for as long as she could, wide smile and cheap sunglasses adorning her face. When the dock was well and truly out of sight, she looked over at Dean and grinned even wider. He raised an eyebrow, and she gave him a quick kiss and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, grumpy-gills. Let's go find our room," she said, tugging Dean towards the indoor area.

Dean raised his eyebrow even higher, but followed her without complaint. "Grumpy-gills? Seriously, Lis?"

"Yes, seriously," she insisted, squeezing his hand a little. "I know you didn't really want to come, but we'll have fun. I promise."

"I know, babe," Dean replied, laughing a bit. "I'm sure you'll have a great time."

Lisa glared at him from behind her sunglasses.

"...and I'm sure that I will, too."

"That's better," Lisa said, smiling once more. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head when they stepped inside, but didn't let go of his hand as they wandered the halls. "It said room 134. I'm assuming that means we're on the first floor, which is probably this floor? Maybe?"

"Pretty sure they're called 'decks' on boats, Lis," Dean teased, getting a light punch for his trouble.

They explored a bit more, finally finding the room marked '134' at the end of a long hallway. There was a little icon next to the number, a tiki-looking thing with a smile more creepy than cute. Dean shuddered. It reminded him a little of this one hunt-

 _No_ , Dean stopped himself. He didn't want to think about hunting or anything to do with hunting, especially while on vacation.

Pointedly ignoring the tiki-man-thing, Dean fished the key card out of his shorts - and yes, he was wearing shorts, so what - and stuck it in the slot, opening the door. He let Lisa in first like the gentleman he was and turned to close the door behind them, whipping around when he heard Lisa gasp.

He understood why. Their room, being at the end of the hallway, had an amazing view of the ocean, floor-to-ceiling windows taking up an entire wall. The rest of the room was nicer than anything he'd ever stayed in before, from the real wood furniture to the mini bar to the king-sized bed with too many pillows.

Yeah, Dean was starting to warm up to this place.

While Lisa was still standing, transfixed by the view, Dean flopped down on the huge bed to test it and immediately let out a long, happy groan. Whatever this mattress was, he wanted it at home. This was the comfiest thing he'd ever had the fortune to lie on.

Lisa startled at the noise he made and turned towards him, grinning like a loon. "Isn't this view amazing, Dean?" she said.

"Bed's better," Dean grunted, burrowing further into the pillows.

When Lisa snorted in disbelief, he merely patted the space beside him in invitation. Lisa threw herself down next to him and, after a moment, mumbled, "Oh my god, you're right."

"Mm."

They lay there for several minutes, face-first in the pillows, before Lisa sat up. "So," she said, dragging out the word, "are you glad you came along _now_?"

Dean, deciding to live up to his new nickname, just responded, "Eh, maybe. Not sure yet."

Lisa huffed, but it was more of a laugh than anything. "Come on, grumpy - let's explore the rest of the boat."

Although Dean gave a halfhearted complaint about getting up, he and Lisa were soon outside again, heading around towards the other side of the boat. So far, they'd seen a pool (with a water slide, Dean had been delighted to notice), a lounge, and the bedroom areas, but there was way more stuff on the rest of the boat, Lisa insisted, and they _had_ to see it all.

She held his hand again as they explored the boat, and _damn_ was it big. Turns out there were actually _two_ pools, as they discovered, along with an indoor theater, a ropes course, a spa, an arcade, a rec room - no shuffle boarding, thank god - and a freaking candy store. And more. So, so much more. Dean was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

There was only one deck they hadn't explored yet, and that was the 'roof,' which was just above the main deck. It wasn't _really_ a roof, as boats didn't have roofs, which Dean pointed out. Lisa just smacked him in the arm and told him to quit being a 'deck,' looking much too proud of herself when Dean groaned at her horrible pun.

But holy shit, Dean would call it whatever they wanted, because apparently the 'roof' was actually an entire deck dedicated to food. 

There was a buffet, a bar, and even a separate restaurant that looked a tad fancier. And the best part? A sign said that the buffet was _always stocked_. And that they'd deliver to anywhere on the boat.

Not to mention that it was completely free.

Dean's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, and he was on the verge of drooling as he watched someone walk by with a steaming pizza. He was ready for this food, like, yesterday, as Ben would say.

Lisa laughed when she heard his stomach, patting his belly affectionately. Dean flushed a bit. He knew he'd put on a few since settling down with Lisa, that he was a little softer around the edges. His belly was a bit doughier, chin a bit softer, but it was just part of the lifestyle change. And Lisa didn't care, so neither did he.

His stomach growled again, and Dean turned to Lisa with his best begging face. She rolled her eyes but swatted him on the butt and said, "Go ahead, baby. I'll pick out a table."

"Love you, Lis!" Dean said, giving her a quick kiss and immediately running for the ice cream bar. Hey, he was on vacation. Ice cream for lunch was totally allowed. 

When he arrived at the table with a gigantic sundae - eight scoops of ice cream, three brownies wedged in, the works - Lisa raised an eyebrow.

"Dean, I thought you were just getting food for yourself."

"I did just get food for myself," Dean said with a stupid grin. "Keep your paws off my ice cream, woman!"

Lisa let out an exasperated sigh, but her slight smile let Dean know that she was only kidding. "If you explode from too much ice cream, I'm gonna be mad at you, just so you know."

But Dean already had a gooey brownie shoved in his mouth and was way too focused to think of a witty comeback. He ate quickly, attacking the huge bowl with his spoon, getting little flecks of ice cream all over... well, everything.

Lisa snorted and picked up a napkin, wetting it with her tongue before wiping it against his nose. At his disgruntled look, she said, "You had chocolate sauce on your nose."

"Oh. Thanks," Dean replied, smiling widely at her before digging in again. This ice cream wasn't going to eat itself, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, the carnage was over and Dean had a killer brain freeze. He was resting his head against Lisa's shoulder, moaning pitifully, and she fake-sighed again, raking her fingers through his hair. He made a happy little noise and nuzzled her arm, mumbling, "You're my favorite girlfriend."

"I'm your only girlfriend, you dork," Lisa replied, flicking Dean's ear. "Now come on, I wanna go swimming."

Dean complied, grabbing his dishes and standing up, brain freeze gone. But _oof,_ maybe he'd eaten a bit too much a bit too fast - his stomach gurgled at him and Dean scrunched his face up, automatically dropping a hand down to rub at his belly. Oh yeah, that was nice.

Lisa just snorted at him again and stood up too, telling him to hurry up before she went to the pool without him. Dean responded with a loud belch, which actually improved his belly situation a lot, and she told him he was gross. He burped again, grabbed her hand and, after a quick detour to the dish bin to leave the remnants of his ice cream feast, Dean and Lisa were off to get changed.

Lisa had gotten Dean some dark green swim trunks - "They bring out your eyes," she said - that tied in the front. They were a good fit, easily adjustable, and nice and comfy. For herself, Lisa had brought a tiny yellow bikini that had some fancy back on it. Not that Dean had much cause to appreciate the design when he was staring at her boobs, but what could he say? She had nice boobs.

She snapped her fingers in his face. "Eyes are up here, mister," she scolded playfully. "Now come on, let's go."

"What about sunscreen?" Dean asked. Yeah, Lisa was tan pretty much 24/7, but Dean was _not_ and he very much did not want to burn.

"I'll help you put it on outside, baby."

Shrugging, Dean grabbed two towels, his phone, and the key card and followed her out of their room. The pool was just outside, and they quickly found two empty chairs, dumping their stuff. They hadn't thought to bring spray-on sunscreen, so Lisa put two huge globs on her hands and smacked them right on Dean's pecs, splattering it everywhere.

"Really, Lis? Right in the boobs?"

Her eyes sparked as she began to rub the sunscreen in, pinching a nipple. He yelped, and Lisa said, "Yes, really. If you can't put on your own sunscreen, then you'll just have to put up with me."

Dean pouted, and Lisa kissed him. He was all sunscreen'd up within a few minutes, and then it was off to the pool. Well, Lisa went to the pool. Dean made a beeline for the water slide.

The line was short, thankfully, but he was sandwiched between two little girls, which made him feel a bit less macho about the whole thing. Whatever, they were cute kids, and they obviously just had good taste in water slides.

When it was Dean's turn, he went down head-first and absolutely did not scream, thank you very much. He did tackle Lisa when she wouldn't stop laughing at him, though.

After a couple hours in the pool, Dean's stomach growled. Again. His face heated a little at the look Lisa gave him, but she just smiled and said, "Order me a drink while you're at it."

Oh right, they delivered. _Hell_ yes.

Dean got out of the pool and picked up his phone, opening the app for the cruise (which was so cool, by the way). There was a little button labeled 'FOOD,' and after screwing around for a couple minutes, Dean managed to order a smoothie for Lisa and a 'Hungry Man Hamburger Platter' for himself. He was a hungry man, after all, and he hadn't _really_ had lunch. The ice cream had just been a snack.

Twenty minutes later, their food was there, and Dean was starting to regret his choice. Turns out that the platter he'd ordered consisted of two huge burgers, onion rings, and fries. A lot of onion rings and fries. Lisa, sipping at her smoothie in the chair next to him, widened her eyes at all of the food.

"Um, Dean, did they give you the right order?" she asked, still staring incredulously at the meal.

"Yep," Dean said, eyeing the food worriedly. He was pretty sure that he'd explode before he finished all of this.

Lisa glanced at the look on his face and laughed, teasing him about being a 'Hungry Man.' Well shit, now he _had_ to finish the whole thing. Just to prove that he could.

Taking a deep breath, Dean started on the first burger, cramming it down as quickly as he could. A couple minutes later, he was licking the grease off his fingers. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

Dean attacked the onion rings and fries next, getting about two thirds of the way through before he got full. He leaned back in his chair and pressed a hand to his stomach, trying to secretly loosen the string on his swim trunks. Ended up just undoing the knot entirely, but he felt a lot better, so whatever.

Lisa was a few chairs over chatting with some other woman, laughing every now and then and looking back at him. He had to finish, especially since she was watching him, but he was seriously full.

Steeling himself, Dean decided to switch it up and started to work on the second burger. He choked it down within a few minutes, but his belly was not having a good time. Dean was pushing it; he was beyond full, stuffed past full capacity, and he still had some fries and onion rings left.

Deciding on a new strategy, Dean reached towards the food with one hand as he set the other on his belly, kneading and massaging gently. Maybe if he kept this up, it would make finishing the whole platter a little easier.

He desperately shoved fries in his mouth, trying to finish them as soon as possible. He felt ridiculously bloated, and he could tell that his belly was more rounded, more solid. God, it was obvious, too; Dean glanced down and his belly was poking out over the waistband, skin stretched taut and almost shiny. Groaning, Dean shoved the last onion ring in and breathed slowly, trying to keep his belly settled, a hiccup escaping his mouth.

Both hands on his stomach now, eyes closed, Dean pushed around experimentally and winced, feeling (and looking) like he was about to pop.

He let out a surprised hiccup when someone else's hand was suddenly on his tummy, right where it was the tightest. Eyes flying open, he realized that it was Lisa's hand - duh, of course. He hiccuped again, and grunted. God, his belly was packed.

Lisa started rubbing up and down, and Dean closed his eyes again, managing a "thanks, Lis" before another hiccup escaped. Lisa hummed and placed her other hand on his stomach, rubbing in gentle circles.

"Anything for you, baby," she said sweetly, and he hiccuped again, followed by a belch. "Whatever you need. I have no idea how you managed to finish that. It looks like there's an alien in your stomach."

Dean tried to laugh but groaned instead, wiping the sweat off his forehead. It was more from the strain of eating than the sun, but no one needed to know that.

"I'd ima- hic! I'd imagine," Dean said, taking shallow but slow breaths.

They sat quietly for the next few minutes, Lisa gently rubbing and Dean hiccuping every few seconds.

"I'm gonna get back in the pool, baby," Lisa finally said, taking her hands off Dean's belly. He whined at the loss, and she swatted his arm. "Jenny invited me to meet her wife, and I'm gonna go hang out with them for a little while. Don't be a baby."

Jenny was probably the lady she'd been talking to earlier. Dean just made a sad noise and took over his belly rub, but he still grabbed Lisa's hand and managed to give it a sloppy kiss before she got away.

His belly felt a lot better by now, actually, but he was still in no shape to get in the pool again. Dean just continued to stroke his tummy slowly, closing his eyes and listening for Lisa's laugh. God, he loved her laugh. And her smile. And her...

The next thing he knew, Lisa was back and the sun was lower in the sky. Huh, he must have fallen asleep. Thank god for the ridiculous amount of sunscreen Lisa had applied, or else he'd look like a lobster by now.

Dean yawned and yanked Lisa down next to him, even though there wasn't really room for two people on one of these chairs. She ended up next to him, squished against his side. After a few complaints, she eventually settled down, one hand stroking his hair and the other resting on his belly, Dean humming and hugging her tightly.

"Love you, Lis," he said, words muffled against her neck.

"Love you too, Dean," she said in return, kissing the top of his head. "So, are you glad you came along yet?"

"Ugh," Dean grumbled, burying further into her side. "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumps around a bit, but picks up basically where we left off.

At dinner that night they sat with Jenny and her wife, Isabella, and all got along famously. Turned out that Isabella was a mechanic down in California, so she and Dean gushed about cars while Jenny and Lisa continued talking about whatever they'd been discussing earlier; Dean was pretty sure it was politics.

Dean started out slow, taking a half rack of ribs and some mashed potatoes from the buffet. He was still pretty fuckin' full from all that food earlier, and he wasn't trying to stuff himself again. But the food was so good that Dean found himself getting up for a second round, this time coming back with a plate full of fried chicken. What could he say? It looked awesome.

Eventually, conversation morphed into a four-way discussion over the newest X-Men movie - which they'd all seen, naturally. Dean was pretty damn full, and he was just planning on chilling with the ladies for a while, maybe hitting up the bar later. But then he saw one of the buffet workers set out a piping hot trough of macaroni and cheese from the corner of his eye, and he was up again. Lisa caught his eye and raised her eyebrow, but he just winked and said that he'd be right back.

After piling his plate full of mac and cheese, Dean sat back down next to Lisa and leaned into her side. Thank god that he was still wearing his stretchy, adjustable swim trunks.

Lisa didn't say anything, but she reached under the table and patted his tummy. He squirmed a little, but it was a loving pat, not teasing. Dean's belly was still pretty round from earlier, and it sat comfortably in his loose shorts, but Lisa didn't care.

Dean snuck his own hand under the table, placing it over Lisa's as he started shoveling in food. The mac and cheese was heavy and rich, and he could almost feel each bite settling on top of the previous. He pressed down on Lisa's hand, silently asking for a belly rub, and took a break from eating to kiss her jaw when she obliged. Jenny and Isabella cooed, and Dean blushed.

He ate as they talked, occasionally contributing to the debate - James McAvoy was a good Professor X, but he would _never_ be better than Sir Patrick Stewart, what the fuck - but mostly just listening as he shoveled macaroni into his mouth. Lisa, the amazing woman that she was, kept up the belly rub the whole time, pressing and kneading and soothing his overly-full stomach.

Finally, the plate was empty, and Dean leaned back a bit and stifled a burp against the back of his hand. He wasn't full like he had been earlier, but he was still _really fuckin' full._ The women laughed at him as he groaned, dropping both hands to his belly just to hold it. God, he'd really overdone it today.

"Men," Jenny said, shaking her head, and they laughed harder. Dean pouted at the teasing, but he liked their new friends a lot and Lisa was still rubbing his belly, so he didn't really mind.

A few minutes later, Isabella and Jenny left for the bar, Lisa agreeing to meet them in a few minutes. When they were gone, she turned to Dean with a little smile and asked, "You good, baby?"

Dean puffed out his cheeks with a big breath, considering his situation. He'd eaten an obscene amount of food, true, but that belly rub had really helped; also, he really wanted a drink.

"Yeah, I'm good," he finally decided, bracing a hand against the table in preparation to move. "Just let me deal with the dishes. I'll meet you at the bar."

After a quick peck on the lips, Lisa wandered to the bar and Dean let out a long breath, patting his angry belly. He really was fine, but he was not looking forward to walking.

Dean got up slowly with one hand on his belly, grunting at the effort. He was sure the bloating wasn't obvious, as his t-shirt was pretty loose, but he still felt like a beached whale. Grabbing the plates, he made his way over to the dish bin, breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose, trying not to jostle his belly too much.

He finally made it to the bar a couple minutes later, finding Lisa and the others quite easily. He just had to follow the sound of Lisa's laughter and Isabella's distinctive Mexican accent.

They were at a booth, Isabella and Jenny on one side, Lisa on the other. Dean slid in next to her, letting out a soft grunt as he sat. The trip over hadn't been smooth, and Dean was happy to be sitting again.

"It's about time," Lisa said, ruffling his hair. He slapped her hand away and she started petting him instead, running her fingers softly through his hair. Dean leaned into the touch, almost purring, and Jenny laughed.

"You've got that boy whipped," she proclaimed, taking a sip of her drink. Lisa smiled in response and slung her arm around him, pulling him close.

"Yes, yes I do," she agreed, and Dean couldn't even bring himself to complain. She was right, after all.

Turned out that Lisa had ordered him a margarita already - as a joke, probably - but Dean sipped it without comment. He wouldn't be caught dead with one of these back at home, but here, Dean was willing to give the so-called 'girly drink' a try. And holy shit, that was pretty good. He took another sip. And then another.

It was gone in minutes, and Dean contemplated getting a second. He didn't want to get up, but he _really_ liked those things...

Luckily, Jenny chose that moment to get up, offering to bring everyone another drink. Dean nodded quickly, wincing when the movement made his belly slosh around. He dropped his hand below the table, placing it on his stomach and pressing down, letting out a little moan. Isabella didn't hear him, still deep in conversation with Lisa, but Lisa glanced over and squeezed his shoulder, her arm still resting along the back of the booth.

Jenny was back with a tray full of drinks and Dean took his, licking at the salt around the rim. Why hadn't he tried these before? They were freakin' amazing.

Conversation carried on, the ladies sipping at their drinks slowly. Dean, however, downed his quickly and stared sadly at the empty glass, wishing with all of his might for it to magically refill. Lisa rolled her eyes and flagged down a waiter, asking for another. Good thing, too, because Dean was in no shape to get up. Partially because of his belly, but also because these drinks packed a pretty big punch. He was already feeling a little tipsy, and he thanked Lisa when another margarita was set down in front of him, kissing the side of her head.

She took another swig of her cider and smiled, skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes. Dean smiled back and took another sip, pacing himself this time. He didn't want to get wasted on god damned _margaritas._ No matter how good they tasted.

Isabella and Jenny left soon after, agreeing to meet them by the poolside tomorrow after lunch. And then it was just the two of them, Lisa still working on her cider as Dean swirled his finger around his empty glass, licking it every once in a while to taste the leftover salt. Lisa snorted at his antics and placed her hand on his belly, poking it softly. Dean groaned at the sudden reminder of how full he was and leaned back, stomach gurgling as it tried to process everything he'd eaten. The drinks had helped take his mind off the fullness, but now that they were gone, Dean was even fuller than before.

"Ugh, stop it," Dean complained, shoving Lisa's hand away. "Too full."

"What if I did this?" Lisa asked, starting to rub instead. Mm, that was nice. Dean sunk further into the booth and took Lisa's wrist, moving it to the places where he was the most tightly packed. She slipped her hand under his shirt and _damn_ , that was even better.

After several minutes, with Dean settled back against the booth, eyes closed, Lisa leaned in and whispered, "What do you say we test out that big bed tonight?"

Although Dean's dick twitched, he groaned and said, "I dunno if I can, Lis. I'm not sure I can even walk to our room, let alone-"

"Don't worry, baby," Lisa said, cutting him off. She hit a particularly tight area with her fingers and Dean sighed, leaning against her side. "I'll do all the work."

Well, that was quite alright by Dean.

"Oh yeah?" Dean said. "Just give me another minute to get up."

They struggled to their room, Lisa giggling at Dean's grunting and muttered curses as each step sloshed the contents of his stomach. They were both a little tipsy, but thankfully, their room was just a floor below. Didn't mean that the journey was much easier, as Dean pointed out with a groan, hand braced against his tummy. Every heavy step was torture on his poor stomach.

When they made it to their room, Dean made a beeline for the bed, settling himself down with a burp. He peeled his trunks off slowly, trying not to bend too much at the waist, huffing when the movement pushed his stomach against his lungs.

Lisa came over and helped him take his shirt off, peeling it up and over Dean's head. She stripped off her sundress and stood in between Dean's splayed thighs, kneading his belly with both hands. Oh, that was real nice. Dean pressed his face between her breasts and let out a long sigh, relishing in the feeling of a good belly rub, bringing his hands up to join hers.

She pushed him down slowly, straddling his thighs, picking up the belly rub even when she slid down onto his cock. Dean gasped loudly, not expecting that _quite_ yet. But hey, he wasn't gonna complain. Especially if Lisa kept up this belly rub.

Dean ran his hands over her body as she rode him gently, taking great care not to jostle his stomach too much. Lisa leaned down to kiss him and he grunted at the sudden weight against his stuffed belly, panting heavily into her mouth as she bounced a little faster, her hands still rubbing and soothing.

He didn't last long, much to his disappointment, but it was one of the best orgasms of his life, and Dean happily let Lisa sit on his face afterwards. He was a gentleman, after all, and he never left a job half-done.

When all was said and done, Dean was exhausted, even though Lisa had done most of the work. It was only 9:45, but he had a full tummy and spent dick - not to mention that he was on vacation, so he could go to bed whenever the hell he wanted - and Dean drifted off shortly after, on top of the covers and everything. He floated back into consciousness for a few seconds when Lisa settled a blanket over them and curled up behind him, but he just hummed and went back to sleep, her hand cradling his belly. He loved being the little spoon.

The following days were spent similarly, hanging out by the pool with Jenny and Isabella. They caught a couple shows at the theater, and one time Dean went down to the arcade to kick ass at the shooting games, but most of their time was spent simply relaxing and enjoying each other's company.

Before Dean knew it, a whole week had passed. He stood in front of the mirror as he shaved, studying his face. He wasn't much tanner, but his annoying freckles were popping up _everywhere_ , and his hair was a bit lighter. Dean frowned a little as he poked at his chin. Was it his imagination, or was it a little pudgier than before?

Dean had continued to stuff himself like a bear going into hibernation, and he was almost always full. His belly was constantly bloated with all the rich food he crammed into it. He couldn't help it, though; when surrounded by so much decadent - not to mention free - food, Dean's natural inclination was to eat as much of it as possible.

So yeah, maybe he was a bit softer than he had been a week ago, but he didn't care. As long as Lisa was okay with it, he'd continue to eat whatever the hell he wanted. Especially if she kept giving him those amazing belly rubs.

Several days later, Dean was studying himself in the mirror again, poking at his belly this time. It had stopped going down in the mornings, still sticking out over his waistband even before he put any food into it. He played at the elastic of his underwear, noticing how it dug into the softness that rested at his sides. And no, they weren't _love handles_ \- Dean just had a little extra chub around his belly and hips, that was all.

Dean reached for the shorts he'd picked out for today, a nicer pair that always made his ass look great. When they refused to button, Dean frowned, looking at the tag.

Yeah, these were the right shorts. He scrunched up his face and tugged harder at the flaps, trying to get the button to meet the hole. They just skirted up against each other, but when Dean let out the breath he'd been holding, the sides got pushed apart again. He cursed, ready to just find a different fuckin' pair of shorts, when Lisa called his name from the doorway. Oh shit, she'd been watching him.

His face flushed as he turned towards her, sucking in his belly as best he could. She gave him belly rubs all the time, so she _had_ to know about the added pudge, but it was different when she caught him struggling into a pair of pants that had fit him two weeks ago, even if they'd been a little tight. When Lisa clucked her tongue, Dean turned even redder.

"Come here, baby," she said, stepping in front of Dean and grabbing the flaps of his shorts. "Let me help."

She knelt in front of him and looked upwards, raising an eyebrow when he just stared at her, confused. "You've gotta suck it in, cutie," she said at his questioning look.

Clearing his throat in embarrassment, Dean did as he was told, sucking in his tummy so she could pull the flaps together. It was a tight fit, but they did it, the shorts confining Dean's stomach and cutting into the pocket of fat beneath his belly button. He glanced towards the mirror and grimaced, noting how the tight waistband made his not-love handles even more prominent. Not to mention how it drew attention to his chunky belly.

Before Dean could hastily tug on his shirt, Lisa placed her hands on his hips and nuzzled his belly, nipping at the bit that bulged over the button. She stood up and gave him a quick kiss on the nose, patted his stomach and said, "Let's go. I heard from Jenny that they have pie at the buffet today."

Pie for breakfast? Yes _please._ Tugging his shirt over his head and grabbing Lisa's hand, Dean said, "What are we waiting for, then?" and dragged her out of the room, ignoring how his little belly jiggled where it pushed over his waistband.

And if he had to surreptitiously unbutton his pants after seven whole pieces of pie, well, it just gave Lisa's hands more room to work.

The following Friday, Lisa proposed a spa day. Although Dean was skeptical, he let her drag him to the lower decks, still wearing his pajamas. He wasn't going to bother to get dressed if he was just gonna change into a robe.

It had nothing to do with the fact that his favorite t-shirt had started to hug his belly, even when he wasn't full. Definitely not.

When they got to the spa, Dean's belly chose that moment to growl loudly. He hadn't eaten anything yet, and his stomach was not happy with him. He dropped a hand to pat it, to soothe his tummy until he could put something in it, and winced when it jiggled lightly under his hand.

Lisa laughed when Dean's stomach growled again, telling him to not worry, because she'd already ordered breakfast to be sent to the spa, and they had forty minutes to eat before their appointment. They sat down at a little table next to a window, just enjoying the silence, and the food was there within minutes.

She had ordered him a huge stack of pancakes and a pile of bacon and sausage, a whole bottle of maple syrup along with it. Dean drizzled the syrup over everything and dug in quickly, shoving food in his mouth, realizing that he now only had thirty minutes to eat this giant platter of food.

A hand dropped to his stomach and started kneading, and Dean sucked in a little. He wasn't embarrassed by his weight gain, not really, but he wasn't exactly proud of it either. His belly fell softly over his waistbands nowadays, and he'd come up with various excuses to not go to the pool for the past few days. Really, he just didn't want Lisa seeing just how chubby he'd gotten in barely three weeks. It was ridiculous, he knew, but still.

Lisa sighed when Dean sucked in his belly and said, "Dean, baby, I don't care that you've got a belly. You don't have to suck it in for me."

He eyed her suspiciously but slowly let his belly spill out, the soft curve pushing into her hand. She hummed softly, smiling at him, and leaned in towards his ear.

"In fact," she whispered, like she was sharing a secret, "I kind of like it."

Dean sucked in a deep breath, almost choking on a pancake when Lisa squeezed her hand around his fat, taking a handful and shaking it gently. She leaned over the table to kiss him, tasting like the egg and pepper from her omelette. He leaned back further in his chair when they pulled apart, picking up the plate of bacon and shoveling it into his mouth. Lisa snuck her hand under his shirt and played with his belly, rubbing and soothing and being an all-around saint, and Dean groaned happily at the attention.

If Lisa was actually _into_ Dean's belly, then this was a whole different ball game.

Fifteen minutes later, just as Dean finished up the last of the sausage, their names were called. He huffed out a long breath as he stood, cupping his full stomach and winking at Lisa. He wasn't stuffed or anything, but he was still pretty damn full, and his belly appreciated the gentle pressure of his hand.

Turns out she had booked them both a long, full-body massage, and Dean was pretty excited. He'd been unhappily picturing himself with cucumbers on his eyes, but this actually sounded amazing. They changed into the fluffy white robes quickly, completely naked underneath. Dean felt a bit scandalous letting his dangly bits just flap in the wind like this, but hey, it was a _full-body_ massage.

Lisa patted his belly on the way out the door, and Dean blushed and followed her to a room with two long, cushioned massage tables. The massage therapists asked them to de-robe and get on the tables, promising not to look. One even went so far as to cover her eyes with her hands, and they all laughed.

They stripped and laid face-down on the tables. Dean shifted around a bit, trying to get his tummy situated. It pressed against the table a little, and it wasn't very comfortable. He stuck a hand underneath and sighed happily, the barrier between his full stomach and the table doing just the trick, the position also allowing him to give himself a secret belly rub. Hell yes.

Warm oil trickled down his back and Dean gasped a bit at the sensation. Big, thick-fingered hands - so he had the guy masseuse - started working the oil around, and Dean sighed.

The massage therapist started at Dean's shoulders and worked his way down, focusing on his back, neck, and arms first. It felt _awesome_ , the man's strong hands working out knots and making him feel like a pile of jello. It felt especially good when the masseuse worked on his lower back and hips, fingers pressing into the fat and working at the muscle underneath. He wasn't even embarrassed that a random stranger was essentially feeling up his love handles. His dick even started chubbing up a little, but Dean couldn't help it - it just felt that good. Thank god he was lying face-down.

Dean let loose an embarrassing squeak when the dude touched his ass. Well, it _was_ a full-body massage, but for some reason Dean hadn't been expecting it. He heard Lisa laugh quietly next to him, but she soon let out a similar noise. Ah, so her masseuse had reached the butt, too.

By the end of the massage, Dean was starting to fall asleep on the table. He didn't even realize when it was done, only startling out of his half-sleep when Lisa shook him. He cracked open his eyes and grumbled, turning his head sideways to look at her, and said, "Mm, I'm ready for a nap."

She laughed at him and handed him a robe, saying, "I'd assumed you'd be hungry by now."

Wait, how long had they been in there? At the questioning look in his eyes, Lisa said, "I booked the extra long session. We've been here for two hours."

Damn. Well, Dean wasn't _starving_ by any means, but he certainly could eat. Sitting up, he stretched with a yawn, tugging the robe on but leaving it open. There was nobody else here, after all - the massage therapists had left - so there was no real reason to preserve his decency. Especially when Lisa took the unspoken invitation and put both of her hands on his belly, just holding it.

"Hmm," Dean said, contemplating his options. "How about lunch first, and then a nap?"

Lisa laughed and jiggled his belly like she had earlier, grabbing a piece and shaking it gently. "Sure, baby," she said when he whined, patting his stomach in a silent apology for the man-handling. "We can get lunch first. We don't even have to change out of our pajamas."

Dean ended up stuffing himself so much that he couldn't move from their table for a full half hour. Lisa sidled up behind him and massaged his burgeoning belly, letting him lean back into her as she worked. He rested his head against her shoulder, eyes closed as she rubbed his over-burdened stomach, tucking his head against her neck. The breeze tickled at his bare belly where Lisa had rucked his shirt up, and he sighed. He could get used to this.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple days before the cruise's end, Lisa decided that she wanted to try out that fancy-shmancy restaurant.

"It'll be fun," she insisted, splashing Dean with water from her fingers. "Date night. Just you and me."

Dean rolled his eyes, lying back in the water to float, eyes closed. "Lis," he said, "this entire cruise has been 'just you and me.'"

He couldn't hear her response, the words muffled by the water. "Huh?" he asked sleepily.

It hadn't _really_ been just the two of them the whole time - they hung out with Jenny and Isabella almost every day, after all, and were constantly surrounded by strangers - but Dean was just being difficult. When Lisa smacked him on the belly, Dean scrambled to stand up again, an affronted look on his face.

"I _said,_ " Lisa said, "that even if that was true, we _have_ to go because you love me and I want to go."

Well, damn. She had him there.

"Fine," he grumbled, fake-annoyed. "What time?"

Lisa gave him a winning smile and said, "Seven o'clock," with a quick kiss. "Wear something nice. And don't eat anything until then."

"Wait, what?" Dean squawked. "Lis, I haven't even had lunch today! It's only eleven!" He patted his belly sadly, saying, "I'll waste away!"

She snorted at his words. "Baby, it would take a lot more than eight hours of not eating to do that."

Dean laughed, placing both hands on his stomach. "Yeah, but still."

Nevertheless, Dean complied with Lisa's wishes, even though she wouldn't tell him why she wanted him half-starved. Six thirty rolled around and Dean rolled out of bed after his nap, stomach growling, lumbering over to the dresser and digging around for 'something nice,' as Lisa had said. She was at a show with Jenny and Isabella, and had said that she'd meet him at the restaurant.

Dean picked out a polo shirt - he couldn't believe he owned a freakin' polo, _christ_ \- and the shorts that made his butt look good. He hadn't worn any shorts besides his swim trunks for over two weeks, as they were the most comfy around a swollen belly, but he was sure that these shorts would be fine.

Well, he'd also stuck to the trunks (which weren't exactly loose) because none of his other pants fit, but he could deal for a night if it made Lisa happy. And they couldn't be _that_ tight, right?

Stripping in the bathroom, Dean stepped into the shorts and tugged them up. Well, he tried to. They snagged around his thighs and Dean cursed, jumping and pulling in an attempt to get the shorts up. What the hell?

Once he managed to get the shorts over his thighs, he hit the next problem: his ass. Lisa called it 'juicy,' but Dean knew it was just fat. It was a novel experience, as he'd never had much of a butt before, but right now it was just annoying.

Grunting and tugging harshly, Dean finally managed to get the shorts over his ass. They were painted on skin-tight and the fabric bunched around his dick, but they fit. Kind of. Then Dean saw how far apart the flaps were, and his hopes of buttoning the shorts with little trouble were scattered.

Dean's tummy sat round and wide atop his hips, jutting out proudly and ruining any chance of getting the button done up around his waist. Actually, it really was more of a gut now. Dean had probably lost the right to call it a 'tummy' weeks ago.

Looking at his reflection helplessly, Dean held the flaps with each hand. His paunch was forcing them apart by several inches, and when he tried to tug them together, it just jostled his belly and sent it jiggling. Christ, even his _chest_ jiggled, Dean realized. Two little handfuls of fat sat where his pecs used to be, perky nipples facing outwards.

Sighing just pushed his belly out further, and Dean stared at himself in the mirror, cataloging all the other changes to his body. Rolls at his sides forced their way out of the too-tight shorts, big enough to grab, and sat primly over the unbuttoned waistband. His chin sunk into a tiny pocket of fat, baby double chin making his jaw look even softer than it already was. And when Dean looked down at his legs, he saw why the shorts had snagged so much. His thighs were thick and soft-looking, brushing up against each other and threatening to burst the seams.

It was probably twenty-five pounds, Dean estimated. Yeah, it was a lot for seven weeks, but people always gained weight on vacation.

Getting back to the task at hand, Dean eyed his gut warily. There was no way he'd ever be able to button the pants around his waist, but maybe...

He left the bathroom and sat down on the bed, laying back and bracing himself. His paunch still jutted out even when he was lying down, but Dean would not be discouraged. These pants _would_ button.

Dean sucked in as much as he could, holding his breath as he yanked the flaps together. They still didn't even come close to meeting, even though he was trying to button them under his stomach, but he didn't give up. Pressing into his belly, Dean sucked in even harder and pulled with all of his might, the button and hole skirting against each other.

He gave one last yank and the button finally slipped into the hole. Dean let out a whoop, but took care to keep his gut sucked in. He worked his fingers around, making sure that any excess fat was forced out and over the shorts instead of trapped inside. They were still ridiculously tight, even with his belly hanging out over the waist, but they were on. Gingerly letting his breath out, Dean allowed his stomach to expand to full size and slowly sat up, wincing as the pants pinched tightly.

Standing, Dean felt his belly fall into place over the shorts and walked over to the mirror to see the damage.

His jaw dropped when he saw just how tight the pants were. Love handles bulged to either side, the tight waistband making them look twice as big as they usually did. Dean could even feel his back fat squeezing out above his ass.

But the real piece of work was his fucking _belly_.

Dean's paunch bulged out obscenely, hanging out in front but not sagging at all, the tight waistband acting like a push-up bra and causing his belly to sit precariously over the shorts. It was almost gravity-defying, Dean thought, giving it a poke. The soft fat jiggled in response, shaking at every little movement. It was literally like a bowl full of jelly.

Lifting up his belly to get a look at just how tight the pants were, Dean noticed the little tiny red marks lining the bottom of his stomach. "What the hell?" he muttered to himself, tracing one with his fingernail. It looked and felt like a scar, kind of, but it was... softer, almost? And there were a lot of them, the lines all in the same direction, a bit like claw marks.

Then it hit him. He, Dean Winchester, (ex-)hunter extraordinaire, had stretch marks. Like a pregnant lady.

Clearing his throat in embarrassment, Dean ignored the marks and shoved his belly this way and that, trying to get a good look at the button. When he finally did, he winced; it looked like it was hanging on by a hope and a prayer. He carefully settled his belly back down over the button and breathed slowly, watching as his gut expanded even more. It was mesmerizing.

Glancing at his phone, Dean saw that he'd wasted fifteen minutes on the pants fiasco. He wasn't late, not yet, but he would be if he didn't hurry up.

Dean grabbed his shirt from where he'd flung it, still wondering why in god's name he owned it. He wracked his memory, trying to remember...

Oh yeah. Years ago, he and Sam had had to infiltrate a country club to crack down on a poltergeist. Dean smirked as he remembered how stupid Sam had looked in his bright yellow polo and khaki pants.

Remembering why Sam wasn't with him now, Dean swallowed and shoved the memory back down, yanking the navy blue polo down over his head quickly. He wasn't going to dwell on Sam, not now. Not tonight.

He tugged the fabric down over his torso, the too-small shirt looking painted on and not hiding his weight gain in the slightest. Not that he was trying to, but still. This shirt was an extra-large already - most of his shirts were, in order to fit over his stupidly-broad shoulders - but it _still_ had trouble getting over his belly. His t-shirts fit better, as they were pretty stretchy, but this polo didn't have any give and he was stuffed in like a sausage. But it was on, and it had been a lot easier than the shorts, so whatever.

Puffing out his cheeks, Dean took a step back and surveyed himself in the mirror. No matter how hard he tugged, the shirt rested above his love-handles and barely covered his belly button, leaving a strip of skin visible all the way around and displaying how his fat belly bulged over the shorts. The entire underside of his gut was exposed, stretchmarks included, and Dean sighed heavily, belly jiggling with the force. The too-tight shirt even outlined his pudgy pecs, but it would have to do.

At least the shorts still worked for his ass, Dean noted as he turned around. He'd probably never wear them again, but it was good to know.

After grabbing the key card, his phone, and his wallet - Dean was pretty sure the restaurant was one of the only things not included in the 'all-expenses-paid trip' - Dean trudged out the door, taking care to walk slowly. It wouldn't do for him to bust his pants before he even got to the restaurant.

Every step made his belly shake, the fat hanging over the button jiggling like jello. His shirt rode up more and Dean, frustrated, just started walking with a hand braced against his belly in order to keep the fabric down. It worked, but it just reminded Dean of how hungry he was, and his stomach roared.

Back in the day, Dean had been able to go multiple days on coffee and force of will alone. Here he was now, dying from a measly eight hours without food, but he didn't care. He was god damned hungry.

He finally reached the restaurant and spied Lisa waiting for him, looking beautiful in a bright red sundress. Dean, feeling a little stupid in his too-tight thrift store polo, gave her a small wave and kept his other hand on his belly, still holding the shirt down.

Lisa's eyes lit up when she saw him and she waved back, giving him a rather thorough once-over. She gave him a kiss when he got close enough, laughing as she said, "I think you might need some new clothes, cutie."

Dean flushed and nodded, replying, "I think these shorts might cut me in half." It was true; he could feel the waistband slicing into the skin and chub underneath his paunch, and every step was a little painful.

"Aw, poor baby," Lisa said, giving him another kiss. Her hand dropped to where his still rested on his belly and she pushed in, causing his stomach to growl loudly. "I bet you're hungry, too."

He nodded again, taking Lisa's hand with his own - the one not braced against his gut - and pulling her towards the entrance. "Yep. Food now, please."

Lisa laughed again and followed him readily. Soon enough, they were sitting down at their table, and Dean had to let go of her hand so he could hold his belly with both of his. When he was sitting down, the waistband cut even deeper into him, and he groaned pitifully.

"You know," Lisa mock-whispered, "you could probably unbutton those now."

"But if I these get unbuttoned," Dean said, voice tight in pain, "there is no way they'll ever button again." He hefted his belly up a little to try and ease the pinching, but it didn't help.

"Baby, do you really think they'd stay buttoned anyway?" Lisa asked. "That button's gonna pop the minute you start eating."

Dean sat there, belly in hands, realizing that she was right. God damn it. He sighed, ready to admit defeat, and-

There was a faint snapping noise and Dean's gut suddenly dropped onto his thighs from its perch, the pressure gone. He groaned in relief, sticking his fingers in the waistband, rubbing to soothe the grooves left in his skin. Dean looked up when Lisa started laughing.

"Or before you've even started eating," she amended, smiling widely.

What? Dean looked down at his lap and oh, right; he'd popped the button. His belly had pushed the zipper down, too, and was now resting lightly on his thighs, shirt not doing anything to hide it. Shit, he hoped no one noticed. He nonchalantly scooted his chair forward until his belly bumped the table, trying to hide the fact that a, his shirt didn't fit and b, he'd popped his freakin' pants button.

Their waiter approached soon enough and before Dean could even think, their menus were sitting in front of them and Lisa had ordered a bottle of red wine. Scanning the various sections, Dean, only half paying attention, asked, "So, why did you insist on starving me today?"

"Because," she said, twinkle in her eye, "we're going to play a game."

Intrigued, Dean put the menu down and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of game?"

Lisa smiled. "I'm ordering for you, and you're going to eat all of it. Whatever I want you to eat."

Dean's brain short-circuited and he stared at Lisa, processing what she'd said. Sure, she'd let him know that she liked his belly before, and she'd never discouraged him from eating, but _this_. This was something different, almost... dirty.

His dick twitched in his destroyed pants. "So, you like watching me eat?" he teased, leaning forward a little, belly pressing into the table.

Lisa leaned forward as well, giving him a peck on the nose. "More than like, baby," she purred, poking his gut under the table. "You're gonna get so stuffed tonight, I'll have to roll you out of here."

Well damn. Dean could get into this.

Before he could respond, their waiter came up with the wine and asked them what they wanted to eat. The restaurant seemed to be a steakhouse, if Dean was correct, and he couldn't wait to see what Lisa ordered him.

"Sirloin platter for two, please," Lisa said, "with triple mashed potatoes and a plate of biscuits."

Truth be told, Dean was a bit disappointed. He loved Lisa, but that didn't mean he wanted to share his food with her.

He almost didn't hear her order another entree. Suddenly, the whole 'for two' thing made a lot more sense.

The whole platter was meant for Dean and Dean alone.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Dean said sweetly, batting his eyelashes. "Because seriously: I love you."

"Let's see if you're still saying that after eating the whole thing," Lisa said with a smirk.

She poured a glass of wine and set it in front of him, telling him to drink up. Dean didn't have much experience when it came to wine, but as he sipped at his glass, he decided that it was pretty damn good. It was smooth and dry, sliding down his throat easily. He could see how this would go well with steak.

Dean asked Lisa about the show as they waited, entranced by the way her hands moved about as she talked. All of her family talked with their hands, actually, especially when recounting a story. He was pretty sure they were Italian.

The food came soon enough, and Dean gulped when he saw the size of his plate. Well, plates. A large plate held two large steaks, a mound of asparagus, and a couple of crab cakes. Then there was a plate stacked high with big buttermilk biscuits. And _then_ the mashed potatoes, which took up another whole plate, covered in gravy that almost pooled off the sides. He was pretty sure there had to be five or six potatoes in there.

"Well, go ahead," Lisa encouraged. "It's not going to eat itself."

Dean took a deep breath and shoveled down the asparagus as quickly as possible. He wasn't the biggest fan of vegetables, so it was better if the green stuff was just out of the picture. It was gone soon enough, and Dean started in on one of the steaks, the rhythm of hand to mouth never ceasing.

The first steak gone, he attacked the plate of biscuits next, managing four before he started on the crab cakes. And oh, those biscuits were dense, packed with trans fat and dripping with butter. They sat heavily in his stomach, but Dean pressed on, finished both crab cakes, and took a sip of wine. He could stop eating now and be perfectly fine, but he wasn't packed full like he wanted to be. Anyways, only half of the meal was gone.

Lisa finished her steak and refilled Dean's wine glass. She placed her chin in her hand and watched Dean eat, eyes hooded, sipping her own glass of wine every once in a while. When Dean finished the huge mound of mashed potatoes and leaned back, cheeks puffed out with a deep breath, she clicked her tongue and said, "Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that."

Dean's cheeks burned and he attacked the second steak, eyeing the remaining biscuits warily as he ate. There were four left, and he was _not_ looking forward to eating them, already regretting eating those potatoes so quickly. His belly gurgled at him and he cupped it, scooting his chair back to give it some more space.

Lisa snuck her hand onto his belly while he was busy finishing up the steak, tracing her fingers over the bare skin, rubbing gently. His gut had expanded and the polo rose with it, now situated just at his belly button and refusing to be pulled down any further. He pressed it into her hand with a grunt, murmuring happily at the pressure and attention.

Then Dean remembered the biscuits. He let out a discreet burp from behind his hand, dreading the task ahead of him. Just as he was about to suck it up and grab one, Lisa's other hand brought one towards his mouth with an "it's okay, Dean."

The task set before him seemed a lot easier when a beautiful woman wanted to help. Dean said as much, grinning cheekily as he took a big bite, and Lisa laughed, her other hand still working at his gut.

She gave him no time between bites, and they fell into an easy routine of bite, chew, swallow, repeat. Well, it was easy for Lisa. By the last biscuit, he was breathing heavily through his nose, sweat breaking across his brow. This wasn't even the most he'd ever eaten, but the biscuits were fucking _dense_. They took up a lot of space in his stomach and made it bloat obscenely, pushing up the polo until it rested solidly above his belly button. He finished the last bite and took a slow breath, tucking a hand beneath his belly, so glad that his shorts were already undone.

"Still love me?" Lisa asked with a raised eyebrow, working on a particularly tight part of his belly. Dean moaned.

"Of course," he panted, putting his hand over hers where it rubbed at his gut. "It'd take a lot more food to change that."

Dean swallowed when he saw the glint in Lisa's eyes. "I'm not done with you yet, baby."

And then she flagged down their waiter and ordered _another_ meal, this time with a single steak, loaded mashed potatoes, and 'artisan' macaroni and cheese, whatever the hell that meant. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unsure of his own abilities.

"I dunno, Lis," he said, rubbing his paunch tentatively. "I'm pretty full."

"Oh, I can tell," she teased, pushing roughly at his gut. He grunted at the sudden increase in pressure and she soothed him with a pat. "But I'm sure you can finish it."

Dean didn't want to disappoint her, so he _knew_ he'd eat it all, even if he exploded afterwards. Still, he was a little nervous.

The food came out quickly and Dean shoved his worries away, focused on how awesome everything looked. Mashed potatoes were drowning in cheese and bacon and, apparently, 'artisan' just meant 'really fucking cheesy' when it came to mac and cheese.

Dean braced himself and started shoving pasta in his mouth quickly, deciding that the best way to attack this was one dish as a time. The mac and cheese was gone soon enough, and though it had been heavy and rich, it had gone down pretty easily.

He tore into the steak with abandon, hoping he didn't choke on the tough meat, shoveling bite after bite after bite into his mouth with no mercy.

But then the steak was gone, and Dean gave a pitiful whine when he eyed the potatoes. He was sick of potatoes, quite frankly, not to mention stuffed to the gills. Lisa made soothing sounds and continued to massage his overfull stomach, but there was only so much a guy could take.

Still, he'd told Lisa that he'd play along, and he wasn't about to back out. Taking a steady breath, Dean spooned up a huge bite of potatoes automatically, repeating the process robotically until the last bite was gone.

Holy shit, he was _beyond_ full. Dean puffed out short breaths and gave a long groan, mostly-bare belly sitting heavy in his lap and gurgling unhappily. He let out a series of belches and, though she wrinkled her nose, Lisa put both hands on his paunch and soothed it best she could.

"So good, Dean," she said, pouring him a third glass of wine. She held it to his mouth and he took shallow sip after shallow sip until it was gone, sloshing around on top of everything else packed in his gut. "You're so good to me."

Dean grunted. He was beyond words at this point, fuller than he'd ever been, more belly than man. Hands braced on the sides of his gut, Dean sat there helplessly, eyes closed, unable to move.

"One more thing, baby," Lisa hummed, mouth close to his ear. Dean made a questioning noise, unwilling to open his eyes. "They have cherry pie."

He whined quietly, pushing his belly into her hands, even _pie_ sounding unappetizing in his stuffed state. Dean was so full that, even unzipped, his shorts cut into his flanks uncomfortably, and he needed them off ASAP.

"I know you can do it, Dean," Lisa said, breath tickling his ear.

Dean opened his eyes to look at her disbelievingly. She must've shuffled her seat around next to his when his eyes had been closed. Fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, Lisa looked at him in an amazing recreation of Ben's puppy eyes, and his resolve started to wear down.

Maybe... maybe he could do it. Just for her. There was a good chance that he'd explode afterwards, but he probably wouldn't. Hopefully.

He nodded slowly, chin sinking down into the small pocket of fat. Lisa gave him a long kiss on the mouth and, a few minutes - and several more kisses - later, a big slice of pie smothered in whipped cream was set down in front of him.

Lisa picked up a fork and stabbed a large bite, guiding it to Dean's mouth. He raised an eyebrow but opened his mouth, the warm cherry filling, flaky crust, and delicate whipped cream ripping a broken moan from his throat.

"There we go," Lisa whispered, other hand still rubbing reassuring circles on his stuffed paunch. "That's it, baby. Nice and slow."

Dean shifted in his seat, willing his dick not to get hard. It would be impossible to hide in these pants, not to mention that _being fed_ was a really weird thing to get worked up over.

She fed him steadily, giving him time to catch his breath in between each bite. A bead of sweat rolled down his face and she wiped it away, pressing a kiss to his pudgy jaw and whispering, "So gorgeous, so good to me."

It took fifteen minutes to finish the single slice, and when it was gone, Dean took the deepest breath he could - not very deep, not when he was stuffed like this - and let it out slowly, belly pushing onto his thighs and shoving out of his shirt insistently. His shirt was rucked up over his belly, the whole thing on display, breeze from the fans chilling the sensitive skin. He couldn't move - even his arms felt heavy, hands still cradling his gut. Dean leaned back as far as he could and tucked his chin into his chest, Lisa giving a sweet kiss to the double chin that formed.

"Thank you, Dean," she said in his ear, hands gentle against his burgeoning belly. "You were amazing."

"Damn straight," Dean managed after a few seconds, cracking a smile through his heavy breathing. "I expect... expect a fuckin' _trophy_ after this."

"I can't give you a trophy," Lisa said with a smile, "but I do have something else."

When they finally made it back to their room, almost a full hour later, Lisa gave Dean his prize in the form of a rather spectacular blow job. Dean gripped his belly tightly when he came, grinning like an idiot. Ah, this was the life.

Two days later, when the boat docked once again, they traded numbers with Jenny and Isabella and walked down the ramp, faces lighting up when they spotted Ben. Lisa's mom was right behind him, and when she and Ben caught sight of Dean and Lisa, they did a double take.

Dean was pretty sure he knew why. His belly sat round and thick over the waistband of his swim trunks, the elastic stretched all the way out and strings left undone in an effort to make his paunch comfortable. A strip of freckled and stretchmarked belly was visible where Dean's shirt didn't quite meet the trunks, the fat jiggling freely, t-shirt riding up a little with each step. Not to mention his baby double chin, soft pecs, thick thighs...

Lisa's mom broke the silence. "I see that congratulations are in order," she said, dry as the desert. "When's the baby due?"

Dean laughed hysterically while Lisa scolded her mom, wrapping Mrs. Braeden in a bear hug. He gave awesome hugs now. Benefit of the pudge.

After Lisa hugged her mom hello, they turned to Ben, who was still standing a few feet away, dumbstruck. Then, with all the tact of a thirteen year old, he exclaimed, "Holy crap, Dean! You got fat!"

Lisa joined in the laughter this time, placing an affectionate hand on his bare strip of belly. "Yes, he did," she said, "but personally, I'm more worried about why I haven't gotten a hug yet."

Ben gave Lisa a tight hug and then turned to Dean, smirk on his face. "What did you do, old man? Eat the boat?"

Dean growled and grabbed him, slinging him over his shoulder and walking towards the car, bags in tow. "No, but I might eat _you_ if you don't watch it, kid." He kept a tight hold on Ben, ignoring the screeches of "I'm too old for this!" and "I'm thirteen, Dean!"

Lisa's mom cackled behind them, and Dean grinned. Yeah, the cruise had been amazing, but it was good to be home.

After they unpacked, the first thing Lisa did was put Dean in front of a scale. When he pouted, she rolled her eyes and said, "Come on, baby. There's no way it's just twenty-five pounds."

Dean grabbed his belly, mock-affronted, and said, "And here I thought I was still svelte."

Lisa laughed, patting his paunch lovingly, and responded, "Get on the scale, genius."

Truth was, he hadn't been 'svelte' for a good while before the cruise. He'd been about 203 last physical, a good fifteen or twenty pounds over his hunting weight. But while on the boat, he'd crossed the line from 'slightly chubby' to 'fat,' and it was time to see the damage.

Dean, stripped down to his too-tight underwear, clambered onto the scale. It creaked when he got on, and Dean waited a minute for the number to level out. He had to lean forward and suck in to see the number, and when he saw what it was, he choked on air.

"What is it?" Lisa asked. "More than twenty-five, right?"

"Try closer to forty," Dean said, stepping off the scale and looking at Lisa. "244, babe."

"Getting pretty chunky, cutie," Lisa said, poking at his soft chin. "What did you weigh before the cruise?"

"203," Dean admitted, flushing a bit when Lisa whistled.

"That's forty-one pounds in... forty-eight days, right?"

"Uh huh," Dean said, hands automatically going down to cup his belly. "About six pounds a week. Something like that."

"Wow," Lisa said, eyes wide, hands joining Dean's on his belly. "Dean, that's ridiculous."

Dean turned to the mirror, Lisa joining him, tucking her arms under his paunch and leaning her head against his arm. His flabby belly flopped out over the waistband of his boxer briefs, resting gently on Lisa's arms. Pudgy tits threatened to rest on top of his gut, love handles bulged at his sides, and his face was all soft and chubby instead of angular and chiseled like it used to be.

But, rather than be ashamed, rather than pledge to a diet, Dean's belly just growled loudly and he laughed, doughy middle jiggling freely. Lisa pinched at his nipple and, after Dean yelped, said, "Come on, baby. Let's go treat Ben to some pizza."

He turned from the mirror and followed her into their bedroom, tugging on some tight basketball shorts and a too-small tank top. Glancing down at the still-exposed strip of skin on his lower belly, Dean asked, "Hey Lis, do you think I need new clothes?" He jumped when Lisa pinched his ass.

"What do you think?" she said, laughing.

Seeing his round belly and chubby love handles, the shirt that rode up with each step and the shorts that slung low under his gut, Dean changed his question to, "Hey Lis, do you think we can buy some new clothes while we're out?"

She laughed again, kissed him on the nose, and said, "Whatever you need, baby. Whatever you need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? I'm thinking of writing some more Dean/Lisa - hopefully with Dean even bigger ;)


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